Fragments from a Savannah, GA childhood

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Trying to reference something about my past I found myself surfing through the things I wrote about myself for my website before I had a weblog.

Found myself thinking about the place where I was born and raised. I lived there for 18 years.
My Huckleberry Hometown
Did I inherit some overly delicate notions of deportment from Savannah; from watching Donna Reed on TV?
Boring But Lovely Savannah
When I was a little kid I we always had black maids. An easy thing when you could hire one for $20.00 a week.
Nigger: An ugly, hateful word
It sounds highfalutin but I think we had a nascent awareness of the hypocrisy and vacuity surrounding us. The unquestioned assumptions, the ethical compromises that are daily life for the majority.
Victor Obe Story
Pastor Hodges regularly denounced the Southern Baptist Convention for its liberalism. A bunch of limp handshake Christians he said. Even though I don't enjoy shaking hands that left me with a firm one.
Bible Baptist Church
My parents were still going to honky-tonks. I went with them. I drank something called Squirt and played the jukebox. Lots of country music I'd learn to love decades later.
Early Years in Savannah
I haven't really said much about momma. In many ways she was always the same to me. Unconditionally supportive. Nothing I did could break her faith in me.
My mamma
My mother said I was present when he knocked her teeth out.

Odd to see your early life as a collection of hyperlinks.


First, let me state the following concerning myself: I’m a 48 year old white, straight female Savannahian who attended Bible Baptist Day School for three years in the early 70’s. I found this site when I did a search engine on the Bible Baptist Church here. Now, having gotten all of THAT out of the way, let me get to my true purpose. K, here goes. To the author of “Boring but Lovely Savannah”, concerning the statement he made about liberal Southerners defending the South, I must speak thusly:

Everyone has a homeland. NO homeland is perfect, since tis made, composed of, creatures commonly known as human beings, with all their faults, mistakes, frailties and weaknesses. That being said, I must state that since that is so, we learned to adjust to such, to not think about, not concentrate all the time on the bad, faulty points of our hometown, but instead focus, fix our sights on those things that are nice, that are good about it. This way of thinking about, of looking at things is a defense mechanism to enable us to stand, to endure, where we grow up at, so we won’t, DON’T, go completely, totally CRAZY while we reside there. Hence, when we grow up and leave for those so called “greener pastures” we so long for, we resent any and all criticism of that old home base by those who’ve never been there. Or, to put it another way, for those of us who still live where we grew up, if a stranger comes to town and starts giving the place hell, we rush to it’s defense, like children who’s mothers are being beaten by robbers. ANYONE, including you, should understand the logic, the thoughful reasoning of the above. However, if y’all don’t, I feel sorry for you for being soooooo darned enbittered that you can’t see the forest for the trees. Now, I’m not saying that you, or anyone else, can’t critque their childhood home’s bad points. But, you must be willing to stand up for, to defend it’s good ones also.


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My Life is an Open Blog
Fragments from a Savannah, GA childhood
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